


Nightmares

by Zenith_Lux



Series: Through the Ashes [3]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Family Drama, Father Son Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-10-30 06:21:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20809973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zenith_Lux/pseuds/Zenith_Lux
Summary: When Vergil’s wife is gravely injured in what should have been a standard demon-hunting job, Vergil decides to enlist some extra help. But when his plans lead him to the Underworld, Nero is determined to go with him. But doing so will cause Vergil to face new nightmares he didn’t remember making, and force Nero to confront doubts he never wanted to share.





	Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> Now for the drama one-shot. Because I've got a bit more to establish for upcoming stories. Not as fluffy as the last one (but the next one we'll be back to pure fluff territory xD)
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Although it had taken a few months, Ashira was starting to get used to the solitary demon hunting. Of course, “solitary” didn’t take V into account, but considering her blindness and his rather unorthodox existence, they really only counted as one person. And while Vergil was off on the more dangerous (and frankly, more financially ludicrous) jobs, Ashira stayed close to home, grabbed what she could, and made an honest living. Or, at the very least, enough to cover her growing literature addiction. 

On this particular day, the hunters asked her to investigate the warehouse district on the outskirts of town. A few workers had called about demon sightings in the area, and (as far as Ashira knew) had been encouraged to evacuate until someone could check on it. And, being the only half-demon member of the group, Ashira had volunteered. Because flying there was significantly easier than driving the backroads in the leader’s rusty, old van. But she had abandoned her devil form immediately upon arrival. While the transformation had gotten easier (at least, into her partial human form. Full Phoenix mode as Nico called it was a monumental challenge), she still felt it clawing at her mind from time to time. Without Vergil to keep it in check, she didn’t risk prolonged periods interacting with that side. She wasn’t afraid of it necessarily, but she still hadn’t learned how to calm it down if it took control. Thankfully, the Phoenix wasn’t a demon interested in killing humans. It was, however, prone to drain their power quickly because- as it constantly reminded her- she was young, inexperienced, and underdeveloped. 

Such encouraging words. 

“You’ll have to get over it eventually.” V said as he glided alongside her. The stench of demons was overpowering, but she had yet to see a soul. Maybe somebody else had already stopped by? It seemed unlikely, considering how terrified the caller had been. 

“She continues to feel like a separate entity.” Ashira said. “And it would be too easy to lose myself in her thoughts.”

“Her thoughts are your own.”

“I beg to differ.” She sighed. “I bet _ you _didn’t deal with this, did you.”

“I embraced it.” V said. “But his voice had been demanding when I was a child. Only his own immaturity kept him in check.”

She paused. “Do you think he still talks to Vergil?”

“Naturally.” V said. “But Vergil is in control.”

Of course he was. Vergil was in control of almost everything, family excluded. A side effect, she supposed, of losing that control for so long. “I’ll talk to him.” She said. “More practice never hurt anyone.”

A spike in demonic energy stopped her in her tracks. V slipped into his human form as his makeshift cane turned energy sword appeared in his hand. It had taken her far too long to figure out the logistics of creating a weapon for a man in her head. But the weapon was sturdy. The blade was sharp. And it handled her fire as well as Yamato. In the end, that was all that really mattered. “A portal.” V said. “Inside the building.”

She frowned. “Did it just appear?” He nodded. “Odd. The latent stench would imply that it’s been here for hours.”

“Indeed.”

She scanned the darkness for any sign of life. Her sight had gotten a bit stronger over the last few weeks. Walls no longer hid souls if she focused hard enough. But that also made her more prone to smacking into them, an unfortunate side effect that V both helped her mitigate and teased her over. Three souls flickered into view. “Smaller demons.” She said. “Think you can handle it?”

V chuckled. “This rabble has never bothered me.”

“Except in human form with no familiars or a literal Phoenix fueling your soul.”

“Details are unimportant at the moment.”

She snorted, but snapped one of her feathers into existence. Her cloak shimmered, turning it gold as V shattered it in his hand. Her power pulsed through him not a second later. “Stay here for now.” She nodded and he disappeared. The screech of demons quickly followed as a few souls blinked into view the same time the others vanished. Satisfied, Ashira took a few tentative steps forward. As long as she didn’t turn randomly, her path should be clear. She did, however, wish that she had brought Ajura. The old dragon was having difficulties adjusting to the human world, and was rarely able to transform out of her little form without Kai’s immense power sustaining her. Ashira had tried to help, but it was difficult to replicate a connection that had lasted for thousands of years. But she was still a valuable pair of eyes for moments like this. 

A red soul flickered once, but vanished. Ashira summoned a flame, waiting. The soul appeared to her right. She threw a feather at it, but it missed. As she pulled it back, she quickly arched it to the side. This time, it embedded in its target. The creature shrieked before its soul burned out. A gnawing sense of dread pulled at her as more matching souls appeared. She hadn’t seen these since becoming blind. Or, more accurately, since the grocery store incident almost nine months ago. And if they were what she thought they were…

The sharp sound of a blade unsheathing kicked her devil instincts into high gear. She flipped to the side, feeling a rush of air as the fury shot by just inches from her. As it disappeared, she summoned a circle of feathers. “V!” She yelled. His soul flickered in recognition, but he was straining in a battle of his own. When the fury’s soul appeared again, she flipped over it and slammed her feathers downward. The creature shrieked, and she heard the sound of ripping flesh before they embedded themselves deep into the ground. 

Ashira threw up a wall of flame just in time to stop a third. Another appeared to her left. A fifth in front of her. She recalled her feathers, snapping power into her cloak as she turned and ran. Their souls began to dash all around her, moving too fast for her to aim at. She lurched backwards and pulled every feather she could into a wall in front of her. One of them hit it, snarling before she sent a pulse of flame in its direction. As she heard its charred body hit the ground, she kept running. Feathers shot in front of her, embedding themselves into anything she couldn’t see. A makeshift solution, but all she could manage at the moment. More furys, at least a dozen now, if not more, shot at her from all directions. 

She felt V’s portal snap closed. He appeared, parrying a fury as its soul appeared beside her. He stabbed through it with a look of pure annoyance, before slashing through another one on the right. Ashira shot fire in all directions, but yanked it back when she felt it collide with the buildings. “When did these things start hunting in packs?” 

“Since one alone was unable to take on a descendant of Sparda.” V kicked in one direction before driving his sword through the soul. Ashira threw a makeshift shield on him as she retreated. The souls seemed to be moving faster. A few were no more than blurs in the chaos of darkness. V looked sluggish in comparison, despite the excess energy. There were simply too many.

“Pull Vergil.” V said. “Now.”

“And risk getting someone killed?” She said. “I don’t have a clue what he’s doing today.”

“I think the threat of a Phoenix burst is a tad more concerning at the moment.” V said, grunting as he threw his weapon up. She heard the fury’s blade collide with his own. V winced, struggling to push back. “Your power is wearing thin.”

Ashira glanced at the tether. It had become such an intrinsic part of her life now that she barely noticed it anymore. And it was faded at the moment, stretched to some kind of limit. While Vergil could go anywhere now without it affecting either of them, the more distance he travelled, the less either felt between them. And if she couldn’t even sense his soul, she doubted she could successfully pull it to her. But that was her only option. Unless…

A shrill cry of pain snapped her attention back to V. He stumbled backwards, hands pressed to a deep gash on his shoulder. Three fury souls rushed him. Ashira’s demon snapped within her. Fire surged upward as she felt the Phoenix take over. She let it, ignoring the latent pain of her form twisting into something new. Her vision snapped into focus. Furys were scattered around her, knocked back by the flames. Her body moved on instinct before she realized exactly which form she had taken. As she reared on her feet, her talons dug into the earth. She stretched her wings and let out a piercing cry unlike that produced by any other creature. Her head snapped forward. Flames barrelled into every fury in its path. It branched out along the ground, like a series of lightning fast serpents hunting their prey. The howls of dying furys were as music to her demon ears. It relished in the chaos. Only a brief pulse of her human side pulled her back under control. 

She snapped back to her human form, crumbling to her knees as she gasped for air. Her perfect Phoenix vision retreated, but her thoughts swam with that of her demon. _ Our power is absolute. You heathens will burn. _Ashira shoved it back down and rushed to V’s side. “I’m alright.” He said as she peered at his shoulder. “I will heal.” 

A snarl echoed behind her. His head snapped up. A hand wrapped around her wrist as she spun around. 

Pain exploded in her body as the last fury’s blade sliced across her chest. V cut it down, swearing profanities she had never heard Vergil use. He swept her into his arms, but only made it a few steps before he stumbled. His form shivered as the power sustaining him began to wane. “Pull Vergil.” He said through clenched teeth.

But the tether had vanished. “I... can’t.”

V forced himself to his feet, half carrying and half dragging her somewhere. She felt wood beneath her as he leaned her against a wall. More demons flickered into view; not furys, but they may as well have been. “Come on Vergil.” He muttered, standing again. Blood seeped from his wound, but he ignored it “Don’t let her down now.”

* * *

When Vergil’s heart lurched into his throat for no apparent reason, he knew something was wrong. 

Five minutes before, he had been contemplating why he had accompanied Nero on this job in the first place. It had been easy, if long and tedious. Lots of portals with minor demons. A few corrupted souls. With Nero and Dante, the latter having tagged along for reasons that were unclear, defeating them was easy. The horde had been virtually endless, but Vergil was finally able to take down the rather stubborn leader and close the largest portal himself. The rest had crumbled after with little effort. 

“Well, this was a fun family outing.” Dante said, dispelling his devil sword with a grin. “We should get together more often, fellas.”

“The less demons in the world, the better.” Nero muttered. He looked tired, more so than Vergil had seen him in a long while. There were clear bags under his eyes, something that the elder demon hunters didn’t have to deal with unless they went weeks without sleep (which Vergil rarely did any more). And while Nero had fought with an admittedly strange fervor, seeing him this exhausted without excessive use of his devil form was enough to give Vergil pause. 

Dante, clearly, noticed it too. “Everything alright, kid?”

Nero shrugged. “Just haven’t been sleeping well.”

Vergil glanced at Dante. His twin tilted his head. “Any reason?”

“Strange dreams.” Was all Nero said. And as Vergil went to ask him exactly what that meant, he felt it. A panicked and painful tug on his soul. He grabbed at his chest and whipped around, but saw nothing. It was certainly Ashira calling to him, but at this distance he never thought he’d feel it so strongly. The tether flickered bright, as if begging him to grab it. And, whether it was instinct or panic, Vergil did so, pulling as hard as he could. 

Ashira and V blinked into existence. She fell into his arms before he realized the sheer amount of blood seeping from her. The latter crumbled to his knees, out of breath and bruised more than Vergil had ever seen him. “It seems,” V said, his eyes gray. “That we may have… overdone it.” His eyes fluttered closed as he fell forward. Nero rushed to his side, but the body vanished before he made it.

“What the hell was that?” Nero said, suddenly alert. “That was…”

“Not now.” Vergil said as he lay Ashira back. Her eyes met his, but he could see the exhaustion within them, and he wasn’t certain if she was looking at him at all. 

“There’s more…” She whispered. “Demons… I…” She coughed, wincing as she instinctively reached for the wound. 

Vergil stopped her. “Where?”

“Corona… warehouses.” 

“Send me.” Dante said. “I can get back.”

Vergil snapped a portal open and his brother disappeared in a heartbeat. “Where’s Nico?” He said, but Nero was already on the phone. Not a moment later, the van whipped around the corner and skidded to a stop inches from them. Nico burst out of it with a first aid kit and an excessive amount of gauze in her hands. A flicker of surprise crossed her face, but Vergil was grateful when she kept the questions down and dropped everything by Ashira. 

“Does she heal like you?” She asked.

“Not as quickly.” He tore at her shirt, revealing the deep gash beneath. A blade? Had someone attacked her, or was this a demon? Nico fumbled through the box before pulling out a disinfectant. Ashira’s soul pulsed with agony as Nico poured it on the wound, but she bit back any cry. “Pull from me.” Vergil said, tightening his grip on her hand. Her body felt warm, and he wasn’t certain if she had already pulled on her demon, or if it was about to burst within her. “Shira.”

The tether snapped into perfect brightness. He felt a fraction of his power slip to her. The bleeding slowed. He lifted Ashira as Nico wrapped the gauze around her, pulling so tightly that Ashira flinched. “That should stop it for now, but take her to the van, just in case.” 

Vergil did so, watching intently as life returned to Ashira’s eyes. “Those damned lizards.” She muttered, anger flashing on her face for a moment before it was replaced by pain. “Their souls… they were too fast. Too many for V and I to handle.”

“Rest.” Vergil said as he lay her on the bench in the van. Nico threw the door closed as Nero climbed into the passenger's seat. He knelt by her, feeling for her soul. It was strong, so the wound was likely healing. But it was too close to death for his liking. Too close to triggering a resurrection. What devastation that would have caused. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispered. “I… I’ve been fine.”

“Rest.” He repeated. After a long moment, where she seemed unwilling to look away from him, she finally closed her eyes and slipped into sleep.

After a moment of silence, aside from the van creaking along broken pavement as Nico shot through Redgrave like they were being chased, Nero said. “So…”

“Later.” Vergil said curtly. 

Nero hesitated, but simply sighed and said, “Alright.”

* * *

By nightfall, Vergil had already planned his trip to the Underworld.

“You can’t be serious.” Dante said. The scowl on his face was much more intimidating than the way he was sprawled out on Vergil’s couch like a ragdoll. “What are you expecting to find down there?”

“Subjects.” Vergil said. 

“Finally taking your crown then, huh?”

Vergil scowled at him. “I have no interest in ruling the Underworld.”

Dante’s head leaned back with a dramatic sigh. “Well, at least we have that straightened out.”

“But I have some sway.” Vergil continued. “Demons recognize the power of the Qliphoth. If I can find some willing to act under my will, then they’ll protect Ashira.”

Nero, who had been silent since they returned over an hour ago, practically growled in annoyance. “So your plan.” He said, his tone icy. “Is to cut a portal to the Underworld, wander around for who knows how long, and hope you run into demons that are willing to fight on your side, killing their own kind, in the human world?”

“Unless you wish me to stifle her,” Vergil said, his tone equally hostile. “Then yes. That’s exactly my plan.”

“You’re an idiot.” 

“It’s not a terrible plan.” Dante said. Nero glared at him, but he continued, unbothered. “There are plenty of demons sympathetic to humans that would jump at the chance to escape the Underworld. Finding them, though. That’s another matter entirely.” He glanced at Vergil through a mess of bangs he hadn’t bothered fixing. “How long do you intend to stay there, Verge? A day or two in the Underworld could be weeks here.”

“12 hours there is equivalent to a day here.” Vergil said. “That is all the time I’ll need.”

“Bullshit.” Nero snapped. “You honestly expect to just waltz in there, find these demons, and walk out in less than a day?”

“I am more than capable of navigating the Underworld.” Vergil said. “And my time under Mundus’ command taught me where to look.” At least he could speak of that now without the painful memories flickering in his head against his will. “And if I don’t find what I seek in time, then I’ll figure out another plan.”

Nero gave a heavy sigh. “Then I’m going with you.”

Alarm swept through Vergil. He tightened his grip on Yamato as he forced himself to remain calm. “Absolutely not.”

“In case you’ve forgotten.” Nero said. “I am part demon too. I can handle the Underworld.”

“I don’t know, kid.” Dante said. “It’s about as nasty as you’d expect Hell to be. If your demon isn’t overwhelmed by the latent power in the air, it will take your human side time to overcome the primal fear. Your pops won’t admit it, but even we had moments where we couldn’t do anything but wait, and hope we weren’t both out of commission at once.”

“All the more reason for me to go.” Nero hissed. Vergil tilted his head, trying to understand his son’s harsh words. While he had been noticeably tired, Vergil didn’t understand where this anger was coming from. Was he concerned that Vergil would leave him? Unlikely. He’d already promised himself and Nero that he would never do that again unless Nero himself wished him to. And Ashira had little interest in returning to the Underworld unless needed. So why the hostility? Vergil cycled through the past few weeks, but nothing stood out to him as inherently wrong. 

Dante sighed. “It would be better if I…”

“If Vergil’s going to the Underworld,” Nero said, his eyes locked on Vergil’s. “Then I am going with him. End of story.”

For a brief moment, no one said anything. Vergil didn’t break his son’s gaze, but Nero didn’t look away either. Finally, holding back a sigh, Vergil nodded. “If that is your wish, so be it.” 

“You can’t leave your family.” Dante said. 

“Less than a day.” Nero said. Still, he did not look away from Vergil. “I’m holding him to that.” His eyes flickered to Dante. “Don’t let anything happen to them.”

“Ashira will be fine here.” Vergil said. Both Calcifer and Ajura were by her side, taking turns resonating until her soul fully recovered. And he knew from a brief conversation that V was back to full strength. No demons had attacked their home since they had moved in. If they did, they would be swiftly dealt with. “There are leftovers in the refrigerator.” He said to Nero. “Eat what you want and conserve your energy. We leave in an hour.” 

* * *

As the portal closed behind him, Vergil waited, watching Nero. He heard his son’s breath catch, but he kept himself composed. Impressive, given the circumstances. Vergil’s first time in this world had been consumed by his determination to kill Mundus. But Dante hadn’t been wrong. During the three years they had been trapped, his human half had lost itself in an obnoxious and uncontrollable bought of terror more than a few times. Dante had had it worse, as his last trip had been with a clear plan and, as he had so eloquently put it, “zero fucks to give.'' 

Vergil hoped that Nero would be able to handle the stress with a clear mission in mind. There was a small spike of demonic power radiating off of him, but nothing Vergil didn’t expect. “It’s… very red.” Nero said finally. 

“In this portion, yes.” Vergil replied, easing his grip on Yamato. Why he had been holding it so tightly was beyond him. “But there are other realms with vastly different landscapes.”

Nero hummed to himself. Vergil couldn’t tell if it was in interest or a nervous noise. “Well, we won’t be going there.”

“No.” Vergil walked forward with purpose, feeling for any souls he could. His connection to Ashira’s power was weak, but at least the tether was still there. They had both been a bit hesitant to let him go when he told her his plan, as their connection had completely snapped last time they had split between worlds. But, while he couldn’t access more power than what was stored in his bracelet, he could still feel their connection. That, at least, was strong enough to survive such distance. 

Nero jogged up beside him, eyes scanning the horizon. They were in a type of forest, but the trees were red and pumping with demon blood. A few reached for them, but Vergil cut them down before Nero had a chance. Which was a good thing, he noted, for Nero had jumped more than once at the unexpected movement. His demon was clearly on high alert, but his inexperience in this world was holding it back. That, Vergil decided, was a good thing for the moment. His own presence would draw plenty of demons. Nero’s blood would only add to the problem.

Except, there were no demons in sight, and Vergil wasn’t certain why.

“It’s pretty empty.” Nero said.

“Abnormally so.” It had been months since he and Dante had been here - years by Underworld standards - so any defensive traits the demons had picked up to avoid them should have worn off by now. But he felt nothing. Saw nothing. And, quite frankly, it bothered him as much as it was strange. 

Then, they reached a strange cave that seemed to lead to nowhere. A perfectly split soul blinked into existence; one side green, the other a midnight blue that was almost as black as death itself. A reaver. The first Vergil had seen since Mundus’ defeat. And he knew from Ashira that reavers could hide their souls if they wished. This one was calling to him. How he knew he could see it was another issue entirely. 

“You think that’s where we need to go?” Nero said. 

“Possibly.” Vergil hesitated, trying to feel for anything on the soul. If Ashira was here, she could have pinpointed the reaver’s basic powers, his feelings, and any tethers that existed between himself and the rest of the world. But Vergil saw nothing more than the soul. It felt like more of a trap than Mundus’ palace had been. 

But Nero, impatient, said, “Then just go.” He launched into the cave before Vergil could stop him. 

Then, his soul vanished.

A spike of fear shot through him as Vergil rushed in after him. He snapped through a barrier, and the world changed. Gone were the rocky walls and cave entrance. Instead, he was surrounded by darkness with a single man standing in the distance. He was shorter than Vergil, but the thick, white and black robe added at least twenty pounds of mass. His head was clean shaven, but he had a thick, white beard that moved as if a small breeze were propelling it. The bottom half was wispy as if he were rising out of dense fog. “Welcome, Son of Sparda.” He said, his voice deadpanned. 

“Where is my son?”

“Safe.” He said. “For now.” 

Vergil almost rushed him, but kept himself calm. Killing the reaver wouldn’t get Nero back, nor would Ashira be too happy about it. If this man had been in hiding for centuries, then Vergil shouldn’t be surprised at such defensive mechanisms. That, however, didn’t ease his anxiety. “I don’t have time for games.”

“You are here for servants.” The reaver said. “And I can provide them.”

While that piqued his interest, his fatherly instincts were well in control. “Bring Nero back. _ Now.” _

“No.” The man said. “You can go to him instead.” With a snap of his fingers, Vergil fell into nothingness. A brief moment of panic overtook him before he pushed it back down. It was unlikely that the reaver was trying to kill him. Could he see his connection to Ashira? Probably not, nor did Vergil think it mattered. So, he let himself fall, hand on Yamato as he pulled his demon just under the surface of his skin. He could trigger in a heartbeat, if it came to that. But for now, he would wait. 

An eternity later - he honestly didn’t know how long it had been - he landed on his feet as if he had only fallen a few inches. He recognized the new scene; Fortuna. But it was different than he remembered. A bit more pristine. The church was bigger, branching out into multiple residential districts that used to be apartments. Clergymen walked the streets in large groups. Women in white hoods were talking around the fountain. Nero’s soul wasn’t around, but Vergil could feel the Sparda blood nearby. _ The church. _While he kept himself controlled, Vergil snapped to the entrance and hit his shoulder against it. The door lurched open and he slipped inside before it had any chance to close. 

The inside was completely empty. No pews. No pictures on the walls or chandeliers on the ceiling. But Vergil’s heart stopped when he saw the body across from him. _ Ashira. _Wrapped up in blue strings eerily similar to the girl she had been forced to kill during the Spider’s experiment. Over a dozen were wrapped around her neck, and drops of blood rolled along them. He was by her side in an instant. Her soul was awake, but she wasn’t moving. There was no tether. Nothing binding him to her. The emptiness in his heart came on so suddenly that he nearly crumbled. “Shira.” He said. 

_ You abandoned her. _ A voice he didn’t recognize said. _ It took time, of course. A century or two. But you wanted more. More than she could give. You gave up, and she fell to the enemies that were biding their time. _

_ No. _ Vergil thought. _ I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t break that oath. _

A pitying laugh echoed around him. _ Five years together is much different than five thousand. _

A roar echoed behind him. He spun around as a dragon burst through the walls, spewing fire in all directions. Its eyes were red. Corruption branched out from its body like veins along his white scales. It looked close to death, and it took Vergil a moment to realize that it was Calcifer. Older. Powerful. And well beyond the point of insanity. _ He went mad when you left, watching his mother deteriorate. _

The dragon lurched toward him. Vergil snapped out of the way. Calcifer swung his tail around, spinning with incredible speed. Vergil jumped it before smacking his snapping mouth away with Yamato’s sheathe. The dragon toppled backwards, roaring in agony as he forced himself back to his feet. _ He had to die, of course. Rabid companions kill indiscriminately, desperate to bring their masters back. _

Vergil dodged each strike, blocked fire with Yamato, and continued to bat Calcifer away. What was this? An illusion? A nightmare? How did he escape? 

_ He had to die. _

_ This isn’t real. _

Vergil lurched forward, suppressing the emotions that threatened to overtake him. He drove Yamato into Calcifer’s chest, piercing the soul that had long since been corrupted. The dragon howled. Tears appeared in the corners of Calcifer’s eyes as he hit the ground. His head landed beneath Ashira. “Mama.” He whispered. “Mama.” His eyes drifted closed as he turned to dust. 

_ How easy it is for you to kill those you once loved. _

It wasn’t, though. The pain in his heart as he stared at Ashira was all consuming. But he forced himself to think. The voice was trying to goad him, but it was safe to assume that it didn’t know his thoughts. “Enough.” He said. 

_ Will you leave her like that? Bound in her misery? _

“Your nightmares don’t frighten me.”

_ They are not mine, Son of Sparda. _

Ashira’s eyes rose. “Vergil.” She whispered. “You came back.” She gave him a gentle smile. “I knew you would… someday.” 

He reached for her, but as his fingers brushed her cheek, she disintegrated. A dark blue bead appeared in his palm. But before he could think much of it, he was falling again. This time, he landed outside Nero’s home. But it was destroyed, much like Vergil’s own had been so many years ago. Nero was standing outside, staring at the wreckage. Vergil was certain this was his real son, and not part of the nightmare. The way Nero was shaking so violently. The power of his coursing over his skin, seconds from breaking through. 

“Nero.” He said. 

“You left.” He whispered. “Again. You… abandoned me.”

Vergil froze. If the previous vision had been his nightmare… was this Nero’s? Or part of his own? There were too many threads crossing over each other. Too many questions. But the voice was still there, whispering in his head. _ They died without you. All of them. Even your brother, trying to protect them. No better than your father. _

“Enough.” Vergil said. “I told you…”

“You promised!” Nero’s demon voice screeched as he spun around. His eyes were bloodshot. “You promised me… promised us…” As his fists clenched, his demon form pulsed out from his chest. “I knew it… My nightmares were real…”

“Nero.” He said. “This isn’t real. I’m here. I haven’t…”

“How long?” He shouted. “How long did you wait? Was the pull of the Underworld that strong?”

“Listen to me.”

“No.” He said, and Vergil knew Nero was lost. Not completely, but trapped in the nightmare. “I wanted to trust you. I _ believed _in you. But I…” Suddenly, his demon howled in fury as he rushed Vergil with reckless abandon. Yamato practically appeared between them, but the power behind Nero’s swing pushed Vergil back. 

“I’m here.” Vergil said. “The voice in your head is lying. Nero.” He barely jumped back as Nero fired Blue Rose into his stomach. The bullets shot past him, cutting through his coat. Nero was on him within seconds, slamming down over and over and over… Vergil parried each one, but his mind was racing. If he had to kill Calcifer to escape that nightmare, then what did he have to do for this one?

_ This isn’t my nightmare. _

He shoved Nero backwards, but only stood up straighter. Nero’s anger didn’t dissipate, but Vergil understood. At least, he hoped he did. But even if he was wrong, then at least Nero would be free. 

_ You would give your life for him? _The voice whispered, surprised. Nero charged, Red Queen directly in front of him. Vergil tossed Yamato away. Red Queen embedded into his chest. The pain was immense, more so than the damage done by even Dante’s weapons. Nero’s eyes flickered back to normal. He gasped, his devil form vanishing. “Dad.” He echoed. “No… No… I…” He yanked his sword out and caught Vergil before he hit the ground. “Please. Vergil I…” He sobbed, pressing his face into Vergil’s shoulder. “Hold on. You’ll heal right? Please tell me…”

Vergil could feel the fire beneath his skin, unbearably hot. For a brief moment, he imagined Mundus’ flames melting his flesh and burning through his bones. But this was different. It felt more like Ashira’s fire erupting from within. And while the pain was immense, he understood what it was. This was, in part, his nightmare, possibly fueled by Nero’s own. It didn’t matter, because he could feel the voice in his head recoiling in pure shock. 

_ You are… impossible. _

Fire burst from him, consuming everything. Memories flooded into him, incomprehensible, but a mix between his own and Ashira’s. It was borderline overwhelming, dragging his demon unbearably close to the surface. But Vergil’s mind, still in tact, was able to push it back down. Nero’s devil form appeared again, but only for a brief moment. The world around them shattered, nothing more than a dome of glass that imprisoned them both. The walls of the cave appeared and the man from before stood against the wall, his eyes wide with a mixture of terror and amazement. As the fire dissipated, a second, dark purple bead appeared in Vergil’s hand, alongside the blue one he didn’t remember holding onto. 

“Enough.” Vergil said for a third time. Yamato appeared in his hand as he pushed himself to his feet. Nero, however, didn’t move, his eyes glazed over. For the moment, Vergil left him to his thoughts. “I should kill you for such insolence.”

The man’s eyes didn’t leave his. “That is what I would expect yes.”

“Yet you risked it?”

“You came here for a reason.” He said. “And your reasons were genuine, more than I had anticipated from the stories I have heard. But I needed to know… I needed to see.”

“See what?”

“If the king of the Underworld was truly on our side.” 

“Our?”

“The other reavers.” He said. “I felt your connection to someone, but I never would have guessed.” The next words he spoke in a revenant whisper. “The Phoenix lives.”

“She has been reborn.” Vergil said. “At the cost of her father’s life.”

For a moment, the man’s face shifted to hope. “My kin have been living in terror for thousands of years. Even with Mundus’ death, the other demon princes seek us out, either to kill or enslave us. Many wish to return to the human world, but our power is weakened. We cannot escape on our own.”

“Do you know where they are?”

“No, but I can feel them. I know they are still out there. Alive.” He closed his eyes in resignation. “If you kill me, please bring her here. Give them hope.”

Vergil hooked Yamato to his side. “What is your name?”

The man’s eyes snapped open. “Morpheus.” He said. 

“If you ever drag my son, my family, or myself into your nightmares again, I assure you that you will not survive.” He turned away, glancing at the two beads in his hand. “But you have done what I asked.” He glanced at Nero. “So, it’s up to him.”

Nero was silent, but stood slowly, eyes meeting the reaver’s. “Find the other reavers.” He said. “Tell them what you saw. Give them the hope they crave. Then, maybe, one day, the Phoenix will come for you.”

With that, he turned and walked away. “It seems luck is on your side.” Vergil said. 

“Nightmares are a distortion of thoughts many are unwilling to admit they have.” Morpheus said. “But they are not indicative of how one truley feels.”

Vergil said nothing, unwilling to give this demon any more of his time, as he followed after his son. 

* * *

When Vergil returned home, Ashira was sitting on the edge of her bed, lost in her thoughts. A part of her was relieved. The darkness that plagued her dreams was infinitely worse than that of her sight. But then she felt his soul... Utter despair. An emotion she had never felt form him before. He seemed almost… defeated. Had something gone wrong? Was Nero okay? 

_ If I had been stronger, _ She thought as his soul settled somewhere in the living room. _ Then you wouldn’t have needed to go. _

She swallowed her guilt. This wasn’t about her at the moment, nor did she want it to be. But she resisted the urge to go to him. He had never liked when someone interrupted his thoughts, even if it was her. And he was home, so he probably wanted to be around her. But if he didn’t come upstairs, then it was because he wasn’t ready to.

So, Ashira waited. Staring into the darkness, praying to whoever would listen that her failure hadn’t broken the man she loved. 

An undetermined amount of time later, she heard the rustling of his coat, followed by a soft thud as he likely tossed it over the back of the couch. This was followed by a click of his shoes, and the zipper of his vest coming undone. The soft thump of his feet on the stairs prompted her to look up in anticipation. He appeared a moment later and closed the door behind him. However, he stared past her, looking at nothing as he leaned back. His hair was a mess. The usual sharp blue of his eyes was replaced by a dull gray. But, he wasn’t shaking from exhaustion. He wasn’t crying from grief. He just stood there, as still as a statue, stuck between the loneliness of thoughts she couldn’t interpret and a clear desire to be with her. 

Ashira met him halfway, sliding off the bed to wrap her arms around him. She leaned her head against his chest, listening to the slow, rhythmic beating of his heart. He was calm at least in his sadness, and his soul warmed every so slightly at the contact. For a long moment, neither of them said anything. His arms stayed at his sides. His muscles remained taut. His shoulders rigid. And Ashira just held him, doing everything in her power to keep her own soul steady to reassure him. 

Then, slowly, as if he thought she’d disappear if he moved too fast , Vergil wrapped his arms around her back. As he pulled her close, he buried his head in the space between her shoulder and her neck. He let out a shaky breath, but no tears. “It’s okay.” She said. “I’m here.”

“I know.” He said, his voice barely more than a whisper. She traced her fingers along his back, feeling the tension in his muscles ease. It was slight, but it was something. Ashira was relieved she could manage that much. 

She started to speak, but hesitated. “Go on.” Vergil said. 

“It’s… okay to cry.” She said. “If you want to.”

Silence. For a moment, she feared she had offended him. Aside from the situation in his soul- which was a rather extenuating circumstance - she had never seen him cry. Ashira wasn’t certain he could. Perfect control over his demon half would make certain of that. “I won’t.” He said, but his voice trailed off. “I don’t… need to.”

Ashira’s heart broke when Vergil’s voice did. He pulled her closer than she thought possible. She could feel his eyelashes on her skin, fluttering closed as he took another shaky breath. “If I ever abandon you… or my family. Do whatever you have to do to stop me.”

“What?” She said. “You wouldn’t…”

“You don’t know that.” He said. “I thought… I couldn’t. But Nero… he…” Rarely did Vergil stumble over his words. Something had happened, but Ashira didn’t think now was the time to question him on it. “He dreams of it often. Nightmares of… me. Turning on him. Returning to Hell. Leaving you all to die. When things were busy… when Mundus and Gaius and Samael were trying to destroy the world, he hadn’t thought of it. But now…” 

“Vergil.” She pulled away just enough to put her hands on his cheeks. With a gentle pull, he lifted his head to look at her. “You won’t abandon him. And you won’t abandon me.”

“Shira…”

“Shhh.” She said, brushing her thumb just under his eyes. There were no tears, but she would catch them if there ever were. “Listen to me.” His gaze didn’t leave hers. “As your soulmate, I am yours. But you are also mine.” He blinked. He knew this, of course, but he waited anyway. She took a moment to keep her voice even, like he would for her. This is what he would do. Share the facts without the feelings. Explain what she may not completely understand. But she hoped he would respond to it the same way she did. “The Phoenix will not stand for someone unwilling to protect humanity. It would corrupt your soul, the flames would burn it all away. If it could not heal you, then she would kill you, and likely myself for failing.”

He bristled at that. “My decisions are not your consequences.”

“But they are.” She said. “Just as the same goes for you. If we are incapable of balancing each other… of keeping each other on the right path, then our partnership has failed.” 

“How do you know this?”

“I dream often.” She said. “Of other Phoenixes. Other lifetimes. They teach me things. And there is much I don’t understand yet. But there are things I do. And this… this is one of those. It is how the second Phoenix died, but he passed his powers on when he realized how far gone his soulmate was.”

Vergil eyes shifted away for a brief moment, but he was quick to meet her gaze again. A sense of pride radiated off of him, but it was slight. The gray in his eyes began to melt away. She summoned a feather, and he took it with little hesitation. When he crushed it, he wrapped his arms around her again. “I’m not going anywhere.” She said. His heart skipped a beat, but he didn’t acknowledge it. After brushing at his cheek again, she whispered, “Share your pain with me. I’ll hold onto it as long as you need, just as you would do for me.” She kissed his lips, hoping he understood. However he wished to interpret that was up to him, and she would do whatever he needed. 

He pressed his forehead to hers. “I will not fail you.” He said, his voice firm. “I promise.”

Then, he kissed her with a fervor close to desperation. And she welcomed it, taking his emotions just as she promised, and cradled them long enough for him to finally let them go. Even so, she held onto him, bringing him back to the reality that his lonely thoughts had temporarily blinded him to. A silent promise. No matter what they went through. No matter who they lost or what battles they faced, she would always be here to pull him back. And the emotions from his soul told her that he would do the same. 

When he eventually pulled her into a simmering sense of calm under the safety of their blankets, he whispered, “I love you.” And she kissed his cheek, curled up against him, and soothed his soul until he slipped into a willing and comfortable sleep. And she waited in the darkness, determined to keep it from him as long as she could. 

* * *

It was almost a week before either Nero or Vergil spoke to each other. He hadn’t been avoiding his son, per say. But he had been waiting, believing that Nero would come to him when he was ready. It seemed like the right thing to do, though Vergil had doubted himself over that particular decision more than once. Dante had swung by once or twice to ensure him that everything was fine and Nero just needed time. But that made things worse, as it meant Nero had talked to Dante about it before him. But his brother hadn’t seemed particularly bothered by the nightmares, so Vergil wasn’t certain if he knew the details or believed in him that much. He never asked, and Dante never told him. Maybe he would ask later, when they weren’t so fresh in his mind. 

But with no calls from Nero, and Vergil repressing his anxiety over the matter, it was safe to assume that Kyrie and Ashira had been involved in the somewhat impromptu invite to Nero’s home. For now, as the women sat outside chatting out of the range of Vergil’s hearing, he was sitting at Nero’s kitchen table, trying to not stare at the cooling coffee in his hand. Nero was leaning against the counter, staring into his water as if it held all the answers to life and the universe. 

So, after much deliberation, Vergil decided he needed to be an instigator. “How long?”

Nero blinked, but only glanced up at him. “How long for…”

“Your nightmares.”

Nero clicked his tongue as his eyes fell back to his drink. “I’ve always had some kind of nightmare.” He said. “They were usually demon related. Easy to ignore. But after I met you, and you went back to the Underworld, they started to change. I honestly didn’t think about them too much. Just some fears of ending up alone or whatever. But when you came back…” He sighed. “They got worse. But I distracted myself with all the world ending bullshit. I guess I was too exhausted to have them.”

“But after Mundus was killed…”

“Yeah they came back.” He said. “Some nights I dreamt of being in your shoes, trapped in the Underworld. As if my brain was trying to relate to you or something. But recently…” He bit his lip, unable to brush through his hair with his hands close to breaking the glass. “That vision… my house burning to the ground. Kyrie… gone. And you were always there, looking at it. Sometimes as a human. Sometimes as a demon. Sometimes you’d look at me, sometimes not. But you would always open a portal and leave. And in all my dreams, you never came back.”

The glass shattered. Nero swore as he yanked his hand away. Vergil was by his side in an instant, grabbing his wrist as he swiftly pulled the chunks of glass out of his hand. Nero stared at him before letting himself relax. “You’ve done this before.”

“Once or twice.” He went to grab the towel, but Nero’s wings snatched it out of his hand. Vergil retreated back to his seat as Nero cleaned up the water before leaning back against the counter. The wound on his hand was already healed. 

“But I don’t feel that way.” Nero said. “At least… I don’t think I do. Maybe at first, but I trust you. And even if you hated me, Ashira would probably kill you if you left her behind.”

_ You don’t know how true that is. _

“It seems,” Vergil said. “That I have developed new nightmares of my own.”

“What?”

He looked back down at his coffee. All the heat was gone now. No use in drinking it. “Of failure.” He said simply. “Thousands of years is a long time.”

“You’ll be able to handle it.” Nero said. This time, he ran his fingers through his hair. “You always wanted to be like your old man, yeah? And he lived for a long time in this world.”

“Yes.”

“But… dammit.” Nero sighed. “I hate this.”

“Hate…?”

“This doubt.” He said. “This stupid doubt mixed with the guilt crawling inside my head. It shouldn’t be there. I don’t want it to be there. I don’t even believe it. But there it is.”

“I don’t blame you.” Vergil said. “Trust is earned, is it not?”

“But…”

“I was gone for over 20 years. Attempted to destroy the world twice, and almost succeeded.” Vergil pushed his cup away before it ended up in the same state as Nero’s. “I don’t deserve your trust at the moment. But I will earn it. Someday. Somehow.”

“It shouldn’t take much.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Nero sighed as he sat down beside him. “I don’t hate you.”

“I never said you did.”

“No matter how angry I get.”

“I know.”

“And I’m happy that you’re here.” 

Vergil glanced at him. “That’s a start.”

Nero laughed with a shake of his head. “One big, messed up, happy family.”

A shout from outside yanked them both to their feet. Vergil blinked to Ashira’s side as Nero ran out the back door. “Kyri…” His voice was cut short as they both realized it hadn’t been in fear, but excitement. Standing beside Ashira was V, having clearly already introduced himself to Kyrie given his rather lax stance and cocky smile. But it was the other two demons that drew Vergil’s attention. Two very familiar demons. And, considering the beaded bracelet around Ashira’s wrist, he knew exactly where they had come from.

“Did ya miss me?” Griffon said, leaping off of Ashira’s arm and flying circles around him in that obnoxious way he always did. “Of course you did. Why wouldn’t you? I’m the best demon bird around.” 

Shadow, who was curled up on Ashira’s lap, growled as if offended. “What do you mean I”m not?” Griffon said landing on V’s arm. 

Everyone, including Kyrie, glanced at Ashira. But she just laughed and scratched Shadow’s head. The panther purred, closing her eyes as her tail flicked back and forth. “He’ll figure it out.”

“What are ya talking about, Princess?” Griffon launched off V’s arm this time, landing on her head. He was a bit smaller than he had been before, and the tips of some of his feathers were gold now instead of dark blue. But it was undeniably the same Griffon. Born of different nightmares, yes, but the servant Vergil hadn’t realized he wanted. “Who are you, anyway? You’ve got Shakesphere in your head, his dull counterpart wrapped around your finger, and now both of us compelled to take care of you.” He leaned his head down. “What makes you so special?”

“She,” Vergil said. “Is your mistress.”

Griffon’s eyes snapped up. “What?”

“You were created to protect her.” He said. “And I expect you to do just that.”

Shadow purred again, clearly content. But Griffon flapped his wings in annoyance, messing up Ashira’s hair. She glared up at him, irritated, but did nothing otherwise. “You’re telling me that you went to all the trouble to bring us back for little miss Princess over here?”

A blue feather shot up past his beak. Griffon shrieked, tumbling off her head. A second golden feather landed in the dirt beside him. He jerked himself away, darting back to V’s arm. The latter sighed with a shake of his head. “A fool sees not the same tree that a wise man sees.”

“Good to see you haven’t changed a bit.” 

“I am his mate.” Ashira said, ignoring them both, as the feathers returned to her hand. “And I expect to be treated as such.”

For a moment, Griffon stared at her. Then, he broke into whatever kind of laughter a bird could break into. “You’ve got spunk, princess! Must take a lot to deal with that egghead.” Vergil scowled at him. But, as expected, the bird didn’t care. He settled his wings and tilted his head. “Fine. I’ll help ya. But only because the kitty there wouldn’t let me live if I didn’t.” Shadow’s head tilted up in agreement before she dropped it again. 

Nero sighed. “Anything else you’ve got hiding?” 

It took Vergil a moment to realize he was talking to him. “As far as I’m aware, no.” 

“What?” Griffon said. “Not happy to see me, deadweight?” Nero’s expression twisted in fury, but Griffon either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “I suppose that’s expected. You always did undervalue my brilliance.”

Nero forced his anger down and rolled his eyes. Vergil was impressed. He would’ve strangled the bird under similar circumstances. But when his son’s gaze flickered to Calcifer, his lips widened into a mischievous grin. “Hey Cal.” He said nonchalantly. The dragon, who was more than comfortable being petted on Kyrie’s arm, looked up, confused. Nero pointed at Griffon. “That bird there? I heard he tastes like chicken.”

Calcifer’s eyes widened as they snapped to Griffon. “Chicken?” He whispered.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey!.” Griffon said as Calcifer slowly crawled down Kyrie’s arm with a hungry look in his eyes. “Don’t you… he’s lying… Hey!” Calcifer lunged. Griffon dashed off V’s arm. “Stop that! I’m not chicken!”

“Come back!” Calcifer yelled. “I just want a taste!” 

“No!”

Nero shook his head. “Our family’s weird.”

Vergil chuckled. “Indeed.”


End file.
